


pineapple? more like pining-apple

by popcornstorm



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 3 AM chats, College AU, Flirting, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, POV Lance (Voltron), Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Pizza, Voltron Pizzeria, kiss, klance, pineapple on pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 09:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12296457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popcornstorm/pseuds/popcornstorm
Summary: They’re sitting on the curb outside Voltron Pizzeria, after Pidge kicked them out with a pissed off look and a “goddamn dramatic teens” muttered under their breath. There’s a quiet silence between them both, as the both respectively inhale slices of pizza, an almost empty box between them.Lance finally breaks the silence, because he can’t stand awkward silences. It allows for too much introspection. “I can’t believe we got kicked out of a pizzeria.”Keith laughs quietly, the breath making a puff in the air. “Yeah, I mean...there’s a certain high that you get when you get kicked out onto a sidewalk, eating the nastiest pizza you’ve had in a long time, at two-thirty in the morning.”-a.k.a. the fic where Keith and Lance get kicked out of a pizzeria and debate about pineapple on pizza





	pineapple? more like pining-apple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LukasBabadookas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LukasBabadookas/gifts).



> This fic was written for my friend @LucaTheSpaceGay because it's his birthday!! Everyone go wish him a happy birth
> 
> Aight so I wrote this because he and I were debating about whether or not pineapple on pizza is actually good (it's not). Anyway, the argument feels like something Keith and Lance would definitely have, so I obviously had to make it a reality.
> 
> So...don't forget to wish him a happy birthday and enjoy the fic!

It’s only after the fifth time Lance slams his face into his thick astronomy textbook that Keith finally stands up in exasperation.

“Alright, enough is enough. Let’s go eat something,” he says, grabbing the jacket hanging off his chair. It was midterms, and like everyone else on campus, they were studying and furiously reviewing notes written on coffee-induced mania and caffeine crashes. Lance really regrets that now, because he can’t even read his own _goddamn_ handwriting to figure out what the heck he’s supposed to know.

Normally by now, he’d already have passed out in the library, drooling over his textbook. But his roommate, Keith (who Lance thought hated him, considering they’ve barely talked all semester) suddenly waltzed up to him after science class to offer to study together.

“Uh- why?” Lance had stammered, more than a little surprised. Not that he was going to refuse, because _Jesus Christ_ , he can’t say no to that pretty face. But, still.

Keith shrugged, like this was a normal occurrence and not something that was less likely than him spontaneously exploding or a dinosaur appearing and killing him instantly. 

(Then again, everyone was collectively on an exam high, so anything could happen at this point. Even his cryptic roommate offering to be his study buddy.)

Rather than say any of this out loud, Lance nodded, because what else could he do?

So three hours later, they had managed to get through most of the notes, yet Lance could already feel himself nodding off. In a last-ditch attempt, he slams his head into his textbook a sixth time, trying to stay awake and alert. It doesn’t work.

“Come _on,_ ” Keith presses, hovering over Lance’s still form. “Let’s go.”

Half-heartedly, Lance lifts his hand in protest. “Wait-” he tries to argue, but Keith, forever his impatient self, is already halfway out the door.

“Lance,” the stubborn student says, barely looking back over his shoulder. “I’m _starving_.”

Lance has half a mind to just ignore it all and sleep forever, but then his stomach rumbles, like a cry for help. And look, he can’t handle peer pressure, especially when it’s coming from his kind-of hot roommate _and_ himself. With this, he reluctantly stands up, grabs his own jacket, and heads out the door.

 

-

 

When he walks outside, Keith is already there, hands shoved in pockets and dark mullet glowing in the streetlight. Lance desperately that last thought shoves deep inside his head. He’s been getting better at controlling his infatuations, for quiznack’s sake.

“Where to?” Lance asks, looking around the darkened streets. For a college city, there weren’t that many places still open at 1in the morning. He can faintly see the dimmed lights of his apartment neighbors, most likely cramming or crashing, like him. “I don’t see anyplace open now.”

Keith grins, beginning to walk in some far off direction. Lance can already tell that this is going to be happening a lot. “I know a place.”

 

-

 

Like _hell_ he knows a place. They get kicked out almost as soon as they enter the empty Voltron’s Pizzeria. The shop looks old and run down, but Keith doesn’t even act like he notices. Lance gives Keith a warning glance.

“Hey man, are you sure you wanna stop here? We could just try to cook, or something,” he offers, although both were bad ideas. Lance couldn’t cook for the life of him, even when his best friend, Hunk, chef extraordinaire was looking over his shoulder and actively helping him. And considering Keith was basically an apartment cryptid, Lance doubted he cooked alot. Unless he was secretly taking online courses on the art of souffles or something at 3 in the morning.

Keith narrows his eyes, dragging Lance’s focus back into the conversation. “Is that a challenge?”

Lance puts his hands up in the air defensively. “I’m just saying, it’s not really the best place for a exam study break...I mean, it doesn’t even have free wi-fi.”

Keith groans. “Look, the pizza is halfway decent, alright? Plus, there really aren’t that many other options. So…” He trails off, quickly glancing over at his roommate’s hesitant expression. A beat later, he seems to make up his mind. Keith squared his shoulders, and walked in, Lance reluctantly trailing behind, mumbling about “heebie jeebies” and “bad vibes”.

As they enter, the employee working there, a tiny teenager with the nametag “Pidge” written almost illegibly, frowns.

“Hey, can’t you guys read? We’re closed,” they say from behind the counter. If looks could kill, their glare would probably have sent them to next dimension over.

Keith shrugs. “The door wasn’t locked.”

Pidge the employee looks like they’re about to argue, before simply pinching their forehead in exasperation and motioning them over. “Alright, then, whatever. What would you guys like to order?”

They both pause to glance at the menu, before Keith says “Hawaiian” at the same time Lance says “cheese”. In unison, they give each other surprised expressions.

“What-” Keith stutters. “Why would you-”

“How-” Lance splutters. “How could you-”

Before they both simultaneously freaked out, Pidge coughs. “Um, not that I don’t appreciate meeting the gay version of the Shining twins, but I’m really doing you a favor by letting you order. So...hurry up.”

Lance indignantly huffs, purposefully ignoring them. “We’re _not_ ordering the abomination that is pineapple on pizza.”

“An _abomination_?” Keith’s voice cracks slightly. “Pineapple on pizza is the abomination? Why would you even want something as boring and unoriginal as cheese-”

“I’ll have you know that classics are _classics_ for a _reason_ -” Lance defends, gesturing wildly and almost knocking a stand of cookies over.

Keith glares. “Well just because you personally don’t have any taste doesn’t mean I don’t-”

Pidge once again interrupts them, somehow managing to look even more annoyed. If looks could kill, the kind of situation they’d be facing would make death seem merciful. “You know, you can just order half and half, right?”

 

-

 

They’re sitting on the curb outside Voltron Pizzeria, after Pidge kicked them out with a pissed off look and a “goddamn dramatic teens” muttered under their breath. There’s a quiet silence between them both, as the both respectively inhale slices of pizza, an almost empty box between them.

Lance finally breaks the silence, because he can’t stand awkward silences. It allows for too much introspection. “I can’t believe we got kicked out of a pizzeria.”

Keith laughs quietly, the breath making a puff in the air. “Yeah, I mean...there’s a certain high that you get when you get kicked out onto a sidewalk, eating the nastiest pizza you’ve had in a long time, at _two-thirty_ in the morning.”

The other boy takes a moment to nod in agreement, before shaking his head. “Wow, I still can’t believe you like pineapple on pizza,” he says, in between mouthfuls of cheese ‘za.

Keith looks up at the darkened sky. “What’s not to like? It’s just objectively good.”

“No, it’s not.” Lance argues, “It’s disgusting. The combination of the sickly sweet pineapple and the savory texture of pizza is horrific. It doesn’t go together.”

There’s a sigh of exasperation. “Well, what about you and your weird fixation with cheese pizza?”

Lance gasps in mock horror. “It’s a _classic_. It is the tried and true combo that works. Plus,” he adds, “you’re technically eating it right now.” 

Keith just shrugs like it proves nothing. He reaches over and takes the last slice of cheese pizza from him. “You eat slow,” he comments.

Lance makes a noise of protest. “Just because I actually _savor_ my food and care about relishing each taste doesn’t make me less than you.” He takes a quick glance at the last slice of pizza. “Wait, are you going to try that?”

Keith rolls his eyes, like the answer’s obvious, and takes a bite. He chews slowly, and swallows, all of which Lance _very pointedly_ doesn’t stare at. Because that’s just creepy. And Lance is not creepy.

“What do you think?” he asks, trying hard to not make this any more awkward than it kind of already is.

Keith licks his lips. “It’s...okay,” he offers. “I’ve tried worse things.”

Lance doesn’t even have the energy to be shocked at this point. “Like what?” he asks, instead.

The other thinks. “I went to South Korea, once, and there were these fried cockroaches on pizza that some market was selling. My brother, Shiro, dared me to try one, and I couldn’t back down, so I took a bite.” Keith visibly grimaces. “It was _disgusting_. It wasn’t even just the cockroaches, which were kind of crunchy...but the greasiness of the pizza and the weirdness of the bugs combined just ruined it.”

The other boy snorts. “Wow...cockroaches, huh?”

“Yeah,” Keith snickers. “I mean, I  _guess..._ I _suppose_ cockroaches are less disgusting than this cheese pizza.”

Lance laughs out loud, lightly shoving Keith’s shoulder. “I _guess,_ ” he imitates in a posh British accent. “I _suh-pose_.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Keith teases, and for a moment, they both forgot they’ve barely talked to each other before that night.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a bit, taking in the emptiness of the night sky and the sound of their hearts beating. It’s almost stifling.

“Hey,” Lance says suddenly. “I think I want to try pineapple pizza.” He shifts nervously, subtly trying to gauge Keith’s reaction.

The other boy grins. “What happened to it being an ‘abomination’?”

“Shut _up_ ,” he says, mimicking Keith. “Just...like, in the spirit of trying things. Of this horrific exam we have to take. Of you actually eating cockroach pizza, for god’s sake. And in the spirit of sitting on a sidewalk at the crack ass of dawn, eating horrible pizza...I’m willing to try-” He makes a show of shivering. “-pineapple on pizza.”

Keith shakes his head at Lance’s antics, before looking down at the very empty pizza box. “I mean, sure. Just, there isn’t any more left. And-” he looks back at the dimly lit pizzeria behind them, “-I highly doubt Pidge would let us back in after they kicked us out.” He trails off when he sees the other's expression.

Lance making a point of letting his gaze drop down to Keith’s lips, before taking a deep breath. “I was thinking,” he says slowly, apprehensively, “that you might let me have a taste.”

For one long, aching moment, Keith doesn’t say anything. Lance can’t even tell if he’s disgusted or surprised or something else entirely, because he’s trying to look at something, _anything_ but Keith’s face. A couple seconds tick by and he starts to genuinely worry that something wrong happened, like a heart attack from the inhumane amount of pizza they're eating. He’s slightly panicking, pondering the possibility of dying from all this pizza, when Keith suddenly lurches forward and mashes his face to Lance’s.

God, it totally catches him off guard, really messy, and Keith nearly misses his mouth entirely, but it’s hand down the best kiss Lance has ever gotten. He can almost hear the word “ _finally”_  mumbled quietly, before it gets swallowed up between them. They break apart, both breathing heavily and grinning nervously.

“So,” Keith says slowly, savoring the moment. “Do you like pineapple on pizza yet?”

Lance licks his lips, pretending to consider. “Hm, I don’t know. I think I might need another taste.”

Keith grins, and leans in.

 


End file.
